Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 eBook

All that makes for me in it I will transcribe for
her—­yet, hang it, she shall have the letter,
and my soul with it, for one consenting kiss.

***

She has got the letter from me without the reward.
Deuce take me, if I had the courage to propose the
condition. A new character this of bashfulness
in thy friend. I see, that a truly modest woman
may make even a confident man keep his distance.
By my soul, Belford, I believe, that nine women in
ten, who fall, fall either from their own vanity or
levity, or for want of circumspection and proper reserves.

***

I did intend to take my reward on her returning a
letter so favourable to us both. But she sent
it to me, sealed up, by Dorcas. I might have
thought that there were two or three hints in it, that
she would be too nice immediately to appear to.
I send it to thee; and here will stop, to give thee
time to read it. Return it as soon as thou hast
perused it.

LETTER LII

Lord M. ToRobertLovelace, Esq. Tuesday, may 23.

It is a long lane that has no turning.—­Do
not despise me for my proverbs —­you know
I was always fond of them; and if you had been so too,
it would have been the better for you, let me tell
you. I dare swear, the fine lady you are so
likely to be soon happy with, will be far from despising
them; for I am told, that she writes well, and that
all her letters are full of sentences. God convert
you! for nobody but he and this lady can.

I have no manner of doubt but that you will marry,
as your father, and all your ancestors, did before
you: else you would have had no title to be my
heir; nor can your descendants have any title to be
your’s, unless they are legitimate; that’s
worth your remembrance, Sir!—­No man is
always a fool, every man is sometimes.—­But
your follies, I hope, are now at an end.

I know, you have vowed revenge against this fine lady’s
family: but no more of that, now. You must
look upon them all as your relations; and forgive
and forget. And when they see you make a good
husband and a good father, [which God send, for all
our sakes!] they will wonder at their nonsensical
antipathy, and beg your pardon: But while they
think you a vile fellow, and a rake, how can they
either love you, or excuse their daughter?

And methinks I could wish to give a word of comfort
to the lady, who, doubtless, must be under great fears,
how she shall be able to hold in such a wild creature
as you have hitherto been. I would hint to her,
that by strong arguments, and gentle words, she may
do any thing with you; for though you are apt to be
hot, gentle words will cool you, and bring you into
the temper that is necessary for your cure.

Would to God, my poor lady, your aunt, who is dead
and gone, had been a proper patient for the same remedy!
God rest her soul! No reflections upon her
memory! Worth is best known by want! I
know her’s now; and if I had went first, she
would by this time have known mine.